The Election of 1800- the full story
by libbiliboo
Summary: The song and some extra scenes. Can be seen as Jefferson/Madison, but it's really up to personal preference. Just cute and fluffy, but spoilers for most of the musical. I'm using the Broadway actors for physical descriptions (mostly because I adore Daveed Diggs' hair).
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! This is my first Hamilton fic, so please enjoy and let me know if you want more! Further down, there's a bit about Jefferson having a limp: this is from watching a video of the Broadway production, and in We Know especially, Jefferson sort of drags his leg behind him a bit (go and watch a video of it if you don't believe me), so I've sorta jumped on it.**

8888888

 _The Election of 1800_

"Can we get back to politics, please? Yo."

James Madison smiled softly to himself as he watched Thomas Jefferson, his, um, eccentric best friend parade angrily around the overflowing study. He was sat at the desk, perusing a detailed map of political preferences whilst listening to Thomas rant about all the things that seemed to be going wrong in their lives.

"Every action has its equal-opposite reaction!"

Madison rolled his eyes as Thomas yet again quoted Newton's first law of motion, but kept his mouth shut, not particularly looking for a fight: I mean, look what happened to Hamilton.

"John Adams shat the bed, I love the guy but he's in traction."

He had to stop himself giggling at that little comment. Adams was no longer fit to run the country and everyone knew it.

"Poor Alexander Hamilton, he is missing in action."

Of course, back to Hamilton. Most New Yorkers were still reeling from Phillip Hamilton's death a few weeks back, but rumour had it that Alexander and Eliza had reconciled in an attempt to begin recovering.

"So now I'm facing Aaron Burr, with his own faction."

Thomas, who was usually quite the little actor, couldn't keep the contempt out of his voice as he strode around the small room yet again, his deep purple dressing gown billowing out behind him like a cape: only Thomas Jefferson, Madison thought, would plan how to become president in his pyjamas. As much as he hated to admit it, Burr was looking far more likely to win the election, what, with all the slander Thomas was getting. Thomas would never agree in a million years, but the comments hurt him deeply, Madison could tell. He was a lot less jolly these days, dancing and bouncing around a lot less than normal.

"He's very attractive in the North, New Yorkers like his chances," Madison piped up, having to keep up his role as chief peacekeeper and voice of reason.

"He's not very forthcoming on any particular stances," Jefferson replied, his arms folded in the same manner as that of a disgruntled toddler, his voice sullen.

"Ask him a question, it glances off, he obfuscates, he dances," the other said, thinking it better to go along the same sort of path as Thomas to avoid a full-on temper tantrum.

"And they say I'm a Francophile! At least they know I know where France is!"

Ouch. That statement had a definite edge and bite to the last part. Madison quietly regarded his best friend. Thomas' soft Southern drawl was magnified 10 times, his accent as thick as the tension that surrounded him, and his hair was askew, the puffy corkscrew curls even crazier than usual. His cheeks were flushed, and he held himself like a petulant child- come to think of it, he was just a petulant child trapped in an adult's body. As Madison looked deeply into Jefferson's soft brown eyes, he felt a rush of affection as he saw the hurt buried there from the derogatory statement.

"Thomas, that's the problem, see," he implored gently, placing a hand on Jefferson's shoulder, wincing as he felt how tense the muscles were. "They see Burr as a less extreme you."

"Ha!"

Thomas shook him off, barely suppressing a snort.

"You need to change course, a key endorsement might redeem you."

Jefferson unknitted his brow, his face softening slightly.

"Who did you have in mind?" he said, careful to keep his tone casual.

 _That's it_ , Madison thought. _Tease him in gently, let him decide whether or not he wants this._

"Don't laugh," James replied cautiously, holding out his hand warningly.

"Who is it?" Jefferson virtually groaned, sounding a little scared.

"You used to work on the same staff..."

"Whaaaaaaaaaaat?"

"It might be nice," Madison steeled himself as Thomas looked at him disbelievingly. "It might be nice to get Hamilton on your side."

Thomas chewed this over for a moment before nodding and happily repeating what Madison had said. Sarcasm? Madison couldn't tell. It didn't matter: Thomas had agreed with him, and that was enough.

"But how, Mads?" Jefferson asked, serious for once in his life. "The man hates me; ever since we uncovered his affair, he's had a grudge against me!"

Madison could tell that Thomas was getting flustered, his gait more lopsided than ever as he dragged his left leg behind himself like a dead weight, moving from the door to the window, the window to the door, repeating Newton's first law of motion under his breath like a mantra.

"Sit down," James commanded, putting his hands on Jefferson's shoulders and steering him towards the plush rich red armchair, the one Thomas always hogged and kept no matter how much Madison tempted him.

"I don't have time to be sitting around, Mads!" Thomas yelled, trying to run a hand through his unruly hair, only to succeed in losing the entire appendage in the bush. "I've got 4 days until the election, and 4 days to somehow make up for 11 years of hatred! I can't do that sitting here, can I?"

"If you don't sit down, you're going to fall down," Madison said matter-of-factly. "That will do wonders for your campaign."

Jefferson's eyes flickered briefly to his leg as he wrestled his hand from his hair.

"I'm fine," he said forcefully, finally sitting down with a flourish of the dressing gown. Madison let out a breath that he hadn't even realised he'd been holding. Walking over to the window, he gazed out at the snow-dusted cobbled streets, nearly groaning when he saw Burr campaigning directly outside. He could've swore Burr turned around and flashed him a smile before turning back to the small crowd before him.

"Burr's outside," Madison said innocently, turning back to Jefferson. Thomas called Burr a very rude name, making Madison blush to the roots of his hair.

"Oh, come off it, Mads," Jefferson cackled when he saw James' red flush. "You've heard much worse than that."

"Not out of a presidential candidate's mouth, I haven't," Madison retorted, fighting the urge to ruffle Thomas' hair. "Just be grateful you're only up against Burr and not Washington!"

"That would've been highly impossible," Thomas mused. "But Washington's not the problem this time: Burr is."

888888

 **Part 2 coming soon!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Part 22222222222222! Please enjoy, and remember to RR!**

888888

Talk less. Smile more. Don't let them know what you're against or what you're for. These are the 3 golden rules that Aaron Burr had lived his life by, the 3 golden rules he had taught Alexander Hamilton (in fact, it was one of the first things he'd said to him), and now the 3 golden rules he was running his presidential campaign by. Shake hands with him. Establish a mutual respect for each other as men; entice them in. Charm her. Women these days had an unprecedented amount of influence over their husbands: if she liked him, he would as well.

"It's 1800, ladies, tell your husbands 'vote for Burr'!"

The crowd cheered and clapped, nodding approvingly at their pamphlets. As he looked down from his parapet, he felt more successful than he had in a long time. The people adored him, and he watched them as they dispersed, chatting quietly amongst themselves.

"I don't like Adams."

"Well, he's gonna lose, that's just defeatist."

"And Jefferson?"

"In love with France!"

"Yeah, he's so elitist!"

"I like that Aaron Burr."

"I can't believe we're here with him!"

"He seems approachable? Like you could grab a beer with him."

He spotted Theodosia, shooting her a true, genuine smile. Turning around to gather his small collection of papers, he spotted James Madison watching him in a hawk-like fashion from a window. The cheating cow! How dare he and Jefferson try to steal his plans! Turning back, he jumped as Theodosia appeared at his side.

"You look mad, Daddy," she said, her voice soft and velvety like silk. Fondling her curly hair, Burr realised just how much she looked like Theodosia the elder. Every day, his heart ached for his wife, for their small family to be complete again. "Who is it this time?"

"No-one, darling," he said, kissing her forehead gently. "Madison is just playing hide-and-seek again."

She giggled, hitching her long dress up so the edge didn't get soaked in snow.

"I don't think Mr Jefferson will beat you in a million years!" she proclaimed, laughing in a twinkling fashion. As if on cue, Madison and Jefferson stepped out of the house, making a beeline for the two of them.

"Burr," Jefferson said, the Southern drawl making Burr's blood boil. "Going well?"

"Very," he replied curtly, ignoring Jefferson's offered hand.

"Who's this?" Jefferson asked, his eyes fixed on Theodosia. He seemed to be examining her, the warm smile on his face betrayed by his cold and analysing eyes that seemed to rake over her body. The Southerner reached out and took her hand, bowing down and kissing it.

"Get your hands off of my daughter!" Burr roared, throwing him off her and ushering the shocked Theodosia behind him. "You can do whatever you want to me, but never, and I repeat _never_ touch my daughter again!"

Jefferson smirked, eyes dancing.

"I'm sorry, Burr," he apologised, failing at sounding sincere. "Just thought you'd got yourself a new toy now your wife's gone."

Burr lunged at him, only Madison inbetween them stopping the biggest political scandal of the decade. Theodosia was looking to the ground, her eyes shiny with tears.

"Thomas, that was below the belt," Madison warned, shooting Jefferson a steely glare. Jefferson had to stop himself from sticking his tongue out at his best friend as he grinned devilishly at Burr, who seemed to be growling a little, Madison's hand on his chest keeping Thomas out of scratching range.

"Just stop it!" Theodosia yelled, tears streaming down her cheeks. Burr turned back to her and instantly felt his heart breaking, sweeping her into his arms and gently stroking her hair, whispering reassurances in her ear as he glared at the two Virginians.

"If you could please leave us alone," he hissed. With a swish of a purple jacket and a hurried apology, the two were gone, leaving Burr to comfort his crying daughter.

8888888

Alexander Hamilton, as a disgraced former Treasury Secretary, recieved many letters. Most followed the same sort of line, he was a traitor to the people, blah blah blah... However, ever since the election of 1800 had begun, he had been recieving lots of letters which said the exact same thing, to the last letter and punctuation mark.

"There's another one, love," Eliza announced, her dress swirling around her like water as she bustled into the room, handing him a manila envelope. Sighing, he slipped his finger under the flap of the envelope, feeling the creamy paper on his skin. Slipping the expensive-looking letter out of its jacket, his eyes skimmed over the now-familiar words.

 _Dear Mr Hamilton,_

 _Your fellow fedralists would like to know how you'll be voting. Dear Mr Hamilton, John Adams doesn't stand a chance, so who are you promoting? Jefferson or Burr? Jefferson or Burr? We know it's lose-lose. Jefferson or Burr? Jefferson Burr? But if you had to choose. Dear Mr Hamilton, John Adams doesn't stand a chance so who are you promoting? But if you had to choose..._

This time, he wasn't able to make it to the end of the letter as there was a loud knock on the door.

"I'll get it!" he called to Eliza, who smiled gently at him from where he was sitting with their daughter in the corner. Contemplating the recent influx of letters, he opened the door expecting to see the postman, not Aaron Burr.

"Well, if it isn't Aaron Burr, sir!" he exclaimed, having to stop himself from flinging his arms around his former friend.

"Alexander!" Burr replied jovially, and Hamilton couldn't help but notice the pamphlets in Burr's hand.

"You've created quite a stir, sir," he said, leaning on the door frame.

"I'm going door to door!"

"You're openly campaiging?" he asked incredulously.

"Sure!"

"That's new."

"Honestly, it's kind of draining," Burr smiled at him.

"Burr?"

"Sir?"

"Is there anything you wouldn't do?"

"No," Burr said firmly. "I'm chasing what I want, and you know what?"

"What?" Hamilton hissed through gritted teeth, narrowing his eyes.

"I learnt that from you."

888888

 **Sorry if the dividers are a bit messed up, I edited this on my phone. Part 3 coming soon, hopefully. Might make another one of these with another song. _Stay Alive_ , perhaps??? Let me know what you think!**


End file.
